


Ground Lamb

by murdergatsby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Crack?, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Grinding, Hannibal is trying to find reason, I feel like this deserves a crack tag, I think Hannibal would call it crack, Keeping Warm?, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Will, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Wake-Up Sex, Will doesn't have a reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/pseuds/murdergatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Skin to skin contact is one of the best ways to stay warm.” Hannibal said, not so much arguing as he was...playing along. He wasn’t sure what game Will was playing, but he knew there was one being played.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Will shook his head and smiled. “But I like this.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ground Lamb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snaxo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snaxo/gifts).



> The title is a pun, you see.
> 
> Happy day of birth, Kat♥

Hannibal awoke to Will’s lips pressing into the line of his jaw. His hand was slipping up the bare skin of his abdomen, squeezing at the softness of his stomach, and he was moaning.

Hannibal’s hands came up to Will’s waist immediately, his body wanting more contact like this _immediately_. He pulled at the younger man’s shirt, arching up into his kisses. He could feel Will’s cock pressed against his thigh, hot and hard through the thin fabric of the boxers he wore to bed.

Will was straddling his leg, one thigh on the outside and one nudging at Hannibal’s own quickly growing erection. Will’s breath was whisking against Hannibal’s ear and neck with each determined sound.

“Will?” Hannibal said, his voice still bogged by sleep. He tried to clear it from his throat but found himself moaning instead. His head fell back into his pillow.

Will ground his hips down on Hannibal, a low and needy sound escaping his lips to accompany each movement. He had been laying on his side but now pulled himself up over Hannibal’s body so that he could move more freely. He placed a hand beside Hannibal’s head on the mattress, and laid the other against his chest. He raked his hand through Hannibal’s chest hair while he continued to build a rhythm with his hips.

“I’m cold.” Will said, meant to act as some kind of explanation. His voice was soft and broken by arousal. The sound of himself speaking brought a pale-rose tint to his cheeks.

Hannibal’s first thought was “ _He doesn’t feel cold,_ ” as he allowed his hands to travel to the round of Will’s ass. His second thought, he managed to vocalize. “Would you like me to get you another blanket?”

Will laughed; he dropped his head into the curve of Hannibal’s neck, and laughed. “No.”

The sound made Hannibal feel unsteady- blissfully so. He tried to meet with Will. He wanted to match his movements and arch into him as he moved, but Will’s pattern kept varying. He changed from slow and even rotations of his hips, to quick and urgent thrusts. Eventually, Hannibal gave in and let Will press him down into the mattress to his own accord.

He held Will at the waist and moaned words he reserved for only these kinds of situations. Will’s eyes were squeezed shut as he pushed his body against him, his head either hanging between his laboring shoulders or pressed into Hannibal’s collarbone. The room was filled with the sounds of his lust; every gasp and cry bounced around the room as if they were within theater walls. Sometimes he would stop the sound to kiss Hannibal, but he seemed to enjoy the sound of his own pleasure too much to fully put a stop to it. Not that Hannibal minded at all.

What Hannibal did mind was how painfully he wanted Will to take his clothes off, and how Will had not made a single move in that direction. Hannibal slipped his hands up Will’s back, sliding up the smooth skin and pulling his shirt up. He hoped for this to jumpstart Will pulling the rest of it off on his own.

Instead, Will shook his head and removed his hand from Hannibal’s chest to pull his shirt back down.

“I’m cold.” He repeated, clearly laughing under his panting.

Hannibal tipped his head further back into his pillows, eager for Will to kiss along his jaw again. “Skin to skin contact is one of the best ways to stay warm, Will.” He said, not so much arguing as he was… _playing along_. He wasn’t sure what game Will was playing, but he knew there was one being played.

Will shook his head. “But I like this.”

Will ceased his repetitive motions and removed the leg he had been using against Hannibal’s groin. He moved so that he was straddling Hannibal’s hips and then dropped down on him again with a loud, exasperated moan.

Hannibal gripped into the backs of Will’s thighs to accompany this new position, as Will began to simulate riding him. He became aware that Will wasn’t the only on in the room creating desperate cries for more; Hannibal was being just as loud, just as thankful for the friction Will was creating. He tried to stifle it.

“I want to make you come like this.” Will explained, his tone finally taking on a key of truth. He spoke down and into Hannibal’s ear, taking his earlobe into his mouth when he was done.

Hannibal moaned in a stream of expletives that were less than English. He more that adored when Will spoke that way; demanding and unwavering of his feelings. There was a time when Will couldn’t look him in the eye and admit to the most innocent of indulgences, and yet here he was telling Hannibal he’d like to dry fuck him to completion.

Who was he to deny Will that request?

Hannibal groaned in acceptance, lifting his hips up as Will brought them down. Will was finally moving at a pace he could work with.

Will lifted himself upright on Hannibal’s lap, keeping his hands knotted in his chest hair. His cock was obscenely pressed against the older man’s stomach, the skin of his shaft peeking through the slit in his boxers. Hannibal moved as if he were wanting to take it in his hand, and Will instantly denied him that by taking him by the wrist and pinning him to the headboard. He had to lean farther forward to pull it off, which seemed only enhance the experience.

“Give me your other wrist.” Will demanded, still grappling for breath as a line of sweat built on his brow.

Hannibal was more than happy to oblige, practically throwing his wrist up to where Will needed to be. Will hummed with appreciation and held both wrists in place with one hand, not willing to give up the placement of his other.

“I had a girl do this to me once, when I was younger.” Will explained further. He had to pause to moan as his hips kicked impatiently forward. “I enjoyed it.”

Hannibal smiled, twisting his hips beneath his partner. “What brought it to your mind tonight?”

“Mm, it’s been on my mind for a while.” Will thought out loud. “I’ve wanted to do this with you, since I met you.”

The words Will spoke knotted and sunk into the base of Hannibal’s throat. “Since you met me?” He asked.

The concept of Will wanting him _like this_ all the way back to when they met in Jack’s office aroused him more than the actual act. His breathing pattern escalated, his body arched as aggressively as it could into Will’s body.

Will nodded his head, confirming Hannibal’s fantasy. “Way back in the beginning.” He breathed, and chuckled. “You sound surprised.” Will opened his eyes while he spoke, forcing them to meet up with Hannibal’s. The eye contact made Hannibal’s body tremble, but Will stayed steady and strong. He laughed again. “When I wasn’t dreaming of corpses, I was dreaming of grinding you into your desk chair.” He explained. “Making you ruin those stupid suit pants.”

Hannibal’s eyes closed and smiled. It was a very “of course” kind of smile, with his lips curling up over his teeth and his head cocking to the side with a sense of pride.

Will was close just from rutting his cock against Hannibal’s stomach. Hannibal could feel him throbbing and full of heat. Hannibal hoped he would release on him. He wanted to feel the white hot spurts on his chest and along his neck. He would have begged for it, if he were the begging type.

Hannibal allowed himself a moment to explore just how trapped under Will he was by trying to move his wrists up from the headboard. Will snap them backwards and into place, making a hard slapping sound reverberate throughout the room.

Hannibal practically whimpered, his jaw quivering from the excitement it gave him to have Will control him like this. He thought to cover the noise with a growl, but then decided he didn’t care. He loved when Will made him feel this way, and he wanted Will to know that he did. Every sound his body tempted him to create from that point on, he embraced and amplified, until he was coming in his pants.

Will managed to hold on longer than Hannibal, but not by much. After Hannibal came he reached into his boxers and finished into his fist. He wiped his mess on the sheets and released his grip on Hannibal’s wrists. Hannibal grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into his chest, still grasping for a steady breath.

After they laid together for a while, cycling through bouts of lazy kisses and snuggling into each other’s bodies as if it was the only thing keeping the other one in bed, Hannibal cracked a smile over his lips.

“Are you still cold?”


End file.
